Disclaimer: Not mine, all Disney's, except for Jamie's family. Their mine! :) I can't really think of anything else to say about this story, except that I hope you like it, and I know that I skipped a lot of time in between the last one and this one. I did it on purpose, or this story arc was never going to end! LOL! Anyway, this is the sequel to "Much Ado About Nothing". I can't think of anything else to say about it, so without further ado...
For All This We Give Thanks...
"So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?" Jamie Waite asked Catie Roth, as the duo made their way down the hallway of Kingsport High, the Wednesday before turkey day. The dark haired girl shrugged her shoulders, hitching her bag up higher on her shoulders.
"I don't know. Probably stay at home." Catie shrugged again. Jamie looked at her out of the corner of his eye, his lips drawn into a slight frown.
"Speaking of home..." Jamie began, but Catie cut him off.
"Jamie. Chill. I appreciate that your worried about me, but nothing has happened since Halloween. I told you, that was the worse ever. Mom is usually so out of it that she never notices me anyway." Catie shrugged her shoulders, forcing her lips into a reassuring smile.
Jamie glanced at her again, and steeled himself for her reaction to his next question. "What about your Dad?"
"What about my Dad?" Catie asked a little to quickly.
"Has he..." Jamie trailed off, wincing at the glare she aimed at him.
"My dad doesn't pull any of that crap." Catie defended her father quickly...to quickly. She refused to look at him, her dark eyes scanning the hallway for someone, anyone else.
Jamie knew she was lying the minute the words were out of her mouth, but he decided to let it slide-- for the moment.
His mother's words still rang in his head, egging him on, but so far, Jamie hadn't come across anything to confirm Genevieve's unspoken worry. However, he wasn't ready to give up trying---he could still remember the stark terror in Catie's eyes when she had woken up that afternoon that she had fallen asleep at his house. The young man shook his head slightly, dragging himself away from his thoughts and back to reality.
"So, what are you doing?" Catie asked, and Jamie blinked.
"For what?"
"The Fourth of July." She snapped sarcastically, making Jamie wince. "Thanksgiving, duh."
"Oh. Suffering through my mother's cooking with my sisters, then making fun of the Macey's Day parade with Crimson, while everyone else is glued to it, and then falling asleep on the couch." Jamie grinned.
"Sounds exciting." Catie smirked, rolling her eyes.
"Oh, it is. Don't mess with tradition, I say." Jamie chuckled, making Catie laugh out loud. "Well, some traditions." He amended, and she nodded.
"Good point."
The two teenagers reached the double doors that lead outside at that point, and, since Jamie was on call that afternoon, they went their separate ways, calling goodbye as they went.
"I'll call you tonight!" Jamie yelled to her as he hurried to his bike.
"Yeah, just try to make it before midnight this time!" Catie called back, laughing.
@-}--}---
Jamie yawned as he opened the back door of his house, walking into the kitchen. It had been a long, rather boring shift, with only three calls, and none of them serious. The rest of the time had been spent playing darts with Hank, and making fun of Val and Tyler as they stared longingly at each other over their math homework.
He chuckled at the memory, stepping fully into the lit kitchen. The dark haired young man jumped in surprise to see his mother sitting at the table, a steaming cup of blackberry tea in front of her.
"Hey mom. What are you doing up?" Jamie asked her, tossing his jacket onto the back of a chair, and sitting down across the table from her. She smiled slightly at him, her face paler then normal.
"Couldn't sleep." Genevieve admitted, sipping at her tea, looking up at her oldest child with sad dark eyes. "Your father always use to make me this kind of tea when I couldn't sleep. I use to hate it, but he swore it made me sleep better. He was such a hippie about some things. Never would just let me take sleeping pills."
"I remember that." Jamie smiled bitter sweetly at the memory. "Of course, he always made ME drink cinnamon tea when I woke up in the middle of the night."
"And he gave Jazz orange juice laced with grapefruit juice. And Crimson always got tomato juice." Genevieve smiled as well, though the expression did not reach her eyes.
"Dad was weird." Jamie mused, making his mother laugh half heartedly.
"I know it baby. You know why he gave you that drink, don't you? And your sisters?" His mother asked, setting her chin down on her palm, her elbow resting on the table.
"You know, I never did figure that out. And I never remembered to ask." Jamie shook his head, and then looked expectedly at his mother. The woman smiled, and picked up her mug, taking a sip of the liquid inside, before continuing her story.
"When I was pregnant with you, you would always, always, ALWAYS wake me up, kicking me. And your father gave me all KINDS of home remedies, trying to make you calm down. The only one that worked was cinnamon tea. You always calmed down after I drunk that." Genevieve laughed, her eyes looking less sad. "And it was the same with your sisters. When Molly had gotten big enough, he was going to give her iced tea laced with lemon."
Jamie chuckled as well, his eyes taking a far away cast to them. "But why did he give you blackberry tea?"
His mother grinned at him, her eyes taking on a slightly wicked look in them. "Are you sure you want to know?"
"Umm...that depends. Is it going to gross me out?" Jamie asked, making his mother laugh again.
"Probably."
"Go ahead and tell me, because I'll never get any peace if I don't know." Jamie groaned.
Genevieve grinned, and said, "Well, you were conceived in a blackberry bramble."
"And that is enough for me!" Her son banged his head against the table, making his mother laugh again.
"Hey, I warned you!"
"I'm going to call Catie, and then I'm going to bed." Jamie told his mother firmly, shaking his head. The woman smiled and took another sip of her tea.
"Oh--I'm glad you told me that! Ask Catie if she wants to come to dinner tomorrow." Genevieve requested, swallowing the liquid quickly.
"Cool." Jamie brightened, making his mother shake her head. As he hurried up the stairs, Genevieve turned back to her tea, letting a smile cross her lips.
"He has it so bad for that little girl..."
@-}--}---
Catie was scrawling on the pad of paper in front of her, trying to hurry up and get her history homework done before Jamie called. He said that he would call as soon as he got home, and that was usually around midnight. She had the cordless phone right beside her, so that she could pick it up as soon as it rang, so as not to disturb either of her parents, both of whom were home that night.
Letting them know that she was awake was the LAST thing she wanted right now. Her father (when he was sober) was VERY strict about the phone and bed time. She still had a apple sized bruise on her back from the last time he had caught her on the phone with Jamie, a few nights ago.
The phone beside her suddenly buzzed, and Catie snatched it up quickly, pushing the talk button before it had time to ring again.
"Hello?" She asked quietly, knowing that it would be Jamie.
"Hey." A deep voice answered back, making her smile slightly.
"How was your shift?" The girl asked, kicking her feet up into the air, and putting her pencil down. She'd finish her homework later--she had until Monday.
"Dull. All I did was watch Val and Tyler make goo goo eyes at each other the entire night." Jamie complained, making Catie snort with laughter.
"Poor baby. That would make anyone nauseous. They should just admit that their like, totally in love with each other, and move on from there." Catie thought out loud.
"I know--but then, who would I have to make fun of at the station?" Jamie asked.
"Alex." Catie supplied, and Jamie laughed.
"Now there's an idea. So, what're you doing?" He wanted to know.
"History homework."
"Fun."
"Well, I had to do something to keep me awake. I didn't want the phone ringing to wake up my parents." Catie told him, and then immediately wished she hadn't.
"Why? They wouldn't--" Before Jamie could get any further into his interrogation, Catie cut him off.
"Calm down, their not going to do anything to me. I promise." The dark haired girl assured him.
"Okay." Jamie still did not sound convinced, but changed the subject anyway. "Oh yeah, my mom wants to know if you wanna come for dinner tomorrow?"
"Oh...ummm...yeah, sure." Catie agreed, letting a smile light up her features.
She'd never tell him, but Catie loved Jamie's family, more then anyone in her own family. They all seemed so--loving and so...family-like. But still managed to stay away from the happy dorky Brady Bunch family that other families that were so connected had a tendency to fall into.
"What time?" Catie asked, hoping that it would be later in the day, and her parents would be drunk enough not to notice when she left.
"Umm...around two, but you can come over earlier, if you want." Jamie offered, hoping that she would.
"Cool...umm...do you need me to...bring anything?" Catie asked, not really sure what to ask in a situation like this. She had never been invited to Thanksgiving dinner before at some one else's house, and it seemed rude to her come empty handed.
"Nothing but a barf bag." Jamie joked, and Catie lifted an eyebrow. Almost as if he could hear her expression, he explained. "My mom's cooking is...umm...well...not great. She tries, she really does, but she REALLY sucks at the whole cooking thing. I think she actually did burn water once."
Catie snorted with laughter, burying her head in her comforter. When she got control of her giggles, she choked out "Please tell me your joking. Your mom did not actually burn WATER did she?"
"I swear! She is that...well...I wouldn't really say 'talented', but you get the picture." Jamie told her calmly, before laughing out loud.
"Okay, I guess I have something to look forward to now." Catie laughed, louder then she intended. A muffled thud caught her ears, and she winced. 'Oh Lord, I've woken one of them up now...'
"Catie?" Jamie asked, yanking her out of her thoughts.
"Oh, hey, Jamie, I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Catie asked, her eyes glued to the door, and her heartbeat banging in her chest.
"Yeah okay. Are you okay? Is something wrong?" Jamie asked, concerned. She swallowed, and tried to make her voice came out steady.
"No, nothing's wrong. I'm fine. I just...umm...gotta go. I'm fine. Uh...well...umm...bye." Catie clicked the off button, but not before she heard Jamie's worried voice.
"Catie, wait..."
"Catie..." Her father's voice called from behind the closed door, and the girl winced, hoping that he would think she had just fallen asleep with the light on. No such luck.
The door banged open, and Catie found herself trapped in her own personal hell.
@-}--}---
Jamie had just come downstairs, still dressed in his pajamas, when he heard the doorbell ring. Checking the clock, he blinked in surprise. Who could be here at eight o'clock in the morning?
Shrugging he went to answer the door, grabbing the doorknob and swinging to the door open. He blinked, and then blinked again, wondering if he was still asleep. Catie Roth stood in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a semi-tight black shirt, with her hair pulled into two ponytails on top of her head.
"Catie?" He asked, leaning against the doorway. "What are you doing here?"
"You invited me." Catie reminded him, before biting her lower lip. "I mean, am I to earlier--I could come back later..."
"No...no, it's okay. Come in. When I said you could come earlier, I didn't think you'd come quite THIS earlier, but it's fine. Really." Jamie assured her, studying her face. Something about it looked...funny, to him. One side looked...puffy, or something. And when she stepped into the house, he noticed that she was moving stiffly, like it hurt to move her back. "Hey...are you okay?"
"Huh...oh. Yeah. I just...slept funny, or something." Catie was lying to him again. Jamie studied her features again, more closely. And her make-up was way more heavy then she normally wore it.
Something was going on, and he wanted to know what it was. Something was WRONG with her, but knowing her, she wasn't going to own up to it, even if he pushed. *Especially* if he pushed.
But he couldn't help but ask. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I took some Tylenol before I left, I should be fine." Catie assured him, unable to look in the face.
Jamie swallowed, not liking the fact that she wouldn't look at him, but let it slide, again. "Have you had breakfast yet? You might want to eat something, because it's never good to take Mom's food on an empty stomach."
"Oh, FUNNY!" Genevieve called from the kitchen, making both Catie and Jamie smile.
"Come on." Jamie lead the dark haired girl into the kitchen, grinning at his mother, who was in nearly the same position as she had been, last night, except that the paper was lying in front of her, and she was ideally flipping through it.
She looked up when her son and his friend walked into the room, and she smiled brightly at the girl. "Hi honey. How are you?"
"Oh...um, fine." Catie smiled back, feeling better already. Just being in Jamie's house made her feel better--made her feel safe.
"That's good, honey." Genevieve smiled, sipping her coffee. "Have you had breakfast yet?"
"That's just what we came in here to do." Jamie told his mother, dropping a kiss on the top of her head as he walked toward the refrigerator.
"Oh--are you going to cook for her?" Genevieve asked, smiling at Catie.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" The girl asked Jamie's mother, grinning. Genevieve laughed, pushing back a lock of red hair.
"It's a good thing!" Jamie spoke up in his own defense. "I'm a good cook! I learned from *Dad*."
"Is that a crack about my cooking?" His mother asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"Definitely. Where did you hide the bacon?" Jamie asked, smirking at his mother.
The woman made a face, miming sticking a finger down her throat. "Your not going to cook that nasty pig meat, are you?"
"You don't like pork?" Catie guessed, and Genevieve made a face, shaking her head.
"No, I don't eat any meat." The woman explained.
"Really?" Catie perked up. "Me either."
"I'm still kicking myself for letting Sam--Jamie's father--let the kids eat meat." The red haired woman sighed. "Now they're all hopeless carnivores."
"You make it sound like such a negative thing." Jamie told her, smiling over his shoulder and closing the fridge door and then heading for the door of the kitchen.
"Now, where are you going?" Genevieve asked him, lifting an eyebrow.
"To go ask Jazzy if she knows were you hid the bacon." The young man told her, leaving the room.
As soon as he was gone Genevieve laughed, her dark brown eyes twinkling. "He's so...so...so.."
"Jamie?" Catie supplied, grinning.
"That's it." The mother snapped her fingers and smiled. Then she shook her head. "It's scary how much he can be like his father, sometimes."
"I thought you said he was like you." Catie remembered.
"He is, mostly. But their one or two...quarks in his personality, that are most definitely from his father." The woman smiled at the younger girl. Catie smiled back, and, unthinkingly, leaned back in her seat. She had been sitting on the edge, trying to keep her bruised back off the hard wood seat, but she was so involved in what Genevieve was saying to her, she didn't even think.
As soon as her back hit the wood of the chair, a shot of pain raced through her, and she gasped sitting up straight. Genevieve jerked her head up from her paper, her eyes glimmering with the same concerned worry that always seemed to be sparkling in Jamie's eyes when he looked at her.
"Catie? Catie, are you okay?" She asked, rising to her feet and moving around the table to the girl's side.
"I...I'm fine..." Catie whispered softly, through clenched teeth, her eyes watering slightly.
"I don't believe you. Is it your back? Let me see." Genevieve demanded gently, brushing a strand of Catie's dark hair away from her face.
"No." Catie whispered, looking down at the table, a teardrop trickling down her cheek.
"Why not? What happened to you Catie?" Her voice was so soft and so concerned, that Catie almost broke down and told. Almost.
"I...I just slept on it wrong. It's nothing." Catie tired the line that had seemed to work on Jamie.
"Oh really?" Genevieve asked, lifting an eyebrow, but sat back down, this time across the table from Catie. She sat her chin on her hand, and looked at Catie for a long second, before letting a bittersweet smile touch her face. "You know, Sam and I got married when I was seventeen years old."
"What?" Catie asked, confused as to what that had to do with anything. Genevieve nodded her head, her eyes suddenly very far away.
"I was pregnant with Jamie. I was a senior in high school, and Sam had just graduated trade school. He was a mechanic, you know. He was nearly five years older then I was, but that didn't bother either one of us. Anyway, he asked me to run away and marry him, told me that we would never have to go back to Nigeria Falls, New York again. That's where we grew up--well, he grew up. I moved their when I was fifteen, from Toronto." Genevieve told Catie, watching her carefully.
"Your a Canadian?" Catie asked, then mentally smacked herself. Genevieve had just practically told her her entire life's story, and the smartest thing she could say was 'your a Canadian?'
"French-Canadian." The red haired woman nodded, a slight smile pulling at her features.
"You ran away to marry Jamie's father? Why? Because you were pregnant?" The younger girl asked, tilting her head to the left.
"No. I would have left with him, no matter what." Genevieve snorted slightly though her nose. "Even if I HADN'T have wanted to go."
"Why?" Catie asked, intrigued.
"My father was a very...cruel man. My mother left him, when I was just a baby." Genevieve started and then stopped, her face a mask of pain. "I understand why she left, but I truly wish that she had taken me with her."
"You dad..." Catie started, her voice quaking slightly.
"Beat me. And worse." Genevieve said softly, her eyes dark.
Catie opened her mouth, and then shut it. What do you say to something like that. "Why...why did you..."
"Tell you?" Genevieve supplied, her mouth curving into something that was not really a smile, but comforting anyway. "Because, when I was your age, I thought I was the only person in the entire world who was going through it. I thought that no one would understand--that I was a freak. And I don't know what has happened to you, Catie, but I think that you needed to know--your not the only one. There are people that understand--people that love you, that want to help. I do. Jamie does. Even the little girls want to. We will help you Catie, whenever you want it. Whenever you can trust enough to ask for it."
Catie looked down at the table, trying to keep her rolling emotions in check. She took several deep breathes to steady herself, before looking up at Genevieve, and letting a small smile touch her lips. "Thank you."
Genevieve didn't reply, just smiling slightly sadly. The she shook herself, and lifted an eyebrow. "Now, I suppose that I should get started on dinner--I know how much my children look forward to it!"
Catie giggled softly, and slowly stood up, her back still aching slightly. "Do you need any help?"
"Can you cook?"
"Not really."
Genevieve grinned, her eyes suddenly sparkling. The woman had the most versatile eyes in the world, Catie was sure of it. And she was glad that she had passed those beautiful eyes on to her son. "Good. Grab an apron. Wouldn't do to spoil tradition, right?"